MURTAGH'S POV
It was cold in the mountains north of the Spine. The world was bleak and white with skeletal trees and the flurry of snow.
Murtagh sat against his dragon, Thorn. Normally, the heat from Thorn's stomach was enough to keep the cold at bay. But tonight required a small fire, and even that wasn't enough to keep the chill out of his body. Whenever the snow melted on him, the cold water would run down his body, freezing it to the bone.
Thorn shifted his head closer, using his heated breath to blow the snow away as well as help to warm his Rider. By lifting a wing, he created a makeshift shelter for Murtagh.
"Th...than...ks," Murtagh shivered out. Suddenly, there was a snap of a branch that sent both dragon and Rider to their feet in an instant.
Over there, Thorn told him, using his red snout to gesture to a place where Murtagh could make out a dark shape emerging from the blizzard that was slowly forming.
"P...please help us!" a voice called out over the wind. The dark shape suddenly tilted forward and crashed into the snow. There was a clamour of voices as more dark shapes crowded around the still figure. Murtagh could hear the wail of babies and the voices of children.
Murtagh raced forward while Thron kept watching for danger. "I can help," he told the dark shapes. There was a murmur before a large figure came forward. A bear of a man wearing a suit of armour crafted from bark and various skins. A huge maul was strapped to his back.
He tenderly lifted the still shape in the snow up and held it close to his chest. With a quick instruction from Murtagh, Thorn created a ball of fire that he held in his mouth, lighting up the surrounding mountain.
They both saw with shock that the figures were all elves. The large man...elf stepped forward with the figure in his arms. "P...pl...lease...help us," he pleaded. Murtagh looked behind the man to see enough elves to fill a small town.
But where did they come from? Thorn asked his Rider.
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